


Proper Groupie

by ymorton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Drug Use, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall, Louis, Liam, and Zayn are in a band in some vague past time (1970s?). Harry's their biggest fan, and he just wants to prove it. Back-of-a-tour-van drug-induced orgy (as you do)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Groupie

**Author's Note:**

> (from an amazing tag by moonyesque) 
> 
> come say hello on tumbly ihavea1dbloghelp.tumblr.com

After the show they smoke up. Zayn has good pot - _imported from Colombia, mate, sick shit_ \- and Harry sucks hard on a joint, then passes it off to the bleach-blonde girl next to him, all loose wavy hair and dark pink lipstick and big, black-eyelinered eyes. Harry feels young and inexperienced next to her, but then she gives him a smile around the joint and he relaxes a little, into the backseat of the van. Liam fucking Payne is sat just on his other side, so he’s not  _too_  relaxed, but he tries. 

"Alright, babes?" the girl says once she hands the hash off to Niall Horan, and Harry nods. She strokes his hair off his forehead, then leans in and kisses the soft bow of his mouth. Pulls back, laughs. 

"Now you look pretty," she says softly, as Harry wipes at his mouth cautiously with the back of his hand, tasting the wax of lipstick. She nods at Zayn, sat on the other side of the van. "Been lookin’ at you all night, hasn’t he?" 

Harry flushes hot, but then- that’s what he’s here for, isn’t it? 

He takes another toke when the joint comes back around, and soon enough he’s spectacularly high and the van is thick with smoke. Niall and the girl- Alice, Harry finds out at some point - are snogging in the corner, his big, guitar-calloused hands curved around her bare hip under her top. Harry’s trying not to stare, while also trying not to combust at the fact that Liam’s thumb is rubbing gently over his thigh in his jeans, just casual. Liam’s stoned - keeps laughing crinkle-eyed at whatever Louis’ saying, and Harry just sits there, dry-mouthed with his body thrumming, low and excited. 

He doesn’t know exactly how it’s going to happen, but it’ll happen. You don’t just get into a van with a band like One Direction and not get shagged. He’s heard all the stories, and then he saw on telly that they were coming near Holmes Chapel, and he thought- _well, fuck, I’d quite like to be in on all that._

He’s spent enough bloody time listening to their records, anyway- huddled by the record player in his tiny sitting room with the volume on low and his eyes closed, while his dad tries to watch footy. He’s wanked to them too, he’ll admit - in his bed after the lights go off, biting his pillow and coming, hot and sticky, into his palm. One night his parents went off for some grown-up party and Gemma left too, kissed his cheek and winked and said, “Be good, Hazza,” and got on the back of a motorbike with some long-haired bloke Harry’d never seen before. That night, he’d played One Direction as loud as he wanted, rolled around on the floor playing air-guitar and pretending he was as good at singing as Zayn Malik. 

Then he’d drawn himself a bath, all full of his mum’s bubbly soap, and touched his prick slowly, let his eyes flutter shut and made up a dirty, luxurious fantasy where Zayn and Liam took him one at a time, made him sit on a cock and listened to him squeal, taught him how to suck a dick and then fucked his throat and tangled their hands in his curls- 

He’d come so hard, with such a violent shudder, that water had splashed all out of the bath and under the bathmat. He’d had to mop it up with a flannel, but he couldn’t stop grinning the whole time. 

The point is, he knows what happens, after 1D shows. He’s imagined it enough, at least.

Liam looks over at him with a lazy smile, says, “Having fun, babe?” 

"Yeah," Harry says, slow. "S’good shit." 

Zayn laughs low in his throat from across the van, sprawled on a ratty old sofa with Louis curled into his side, both of them watching him. 

"You been high before?" Zayn says, arching his back a little, all long limbs and slit eyes and smug smile. Harry’s stomach does an excited flop. Fuck, he just wants to get on with it. 

"Couple times," he says, trying to sound unconcerned. Really it’s just once. His mate Andy had gotten this bag of pot off a dealer behind the corner store and they’d rolled it up in fag papers and tried to smoke it. Tasted like shit, and they barely got a buzz, but yeah,  _technically_ , Harry’s been high before. 

"Sure you have," Louis says, amused, and Harry drags his eyes up from where Zayn’s hand is tight on Louis’ thigh. He’s heard about that as well, though not on telly. The 1D boys like boys. It’s a rumor but it was enough for Harry to go on, and now he’s here, and Liam’s hand is on his leg, so he supposes he’s sussed it out right. 

"I have," Harry protests, and Liam squeezes his knee. 

"Yeah, alright, babe," he says, grinning at him. He’s chewing gum, and Harry pouts a little, licks his bottom lip. Liam’s eyes drop lazily down to his mouth. 

"Can I have some?" Harry says, and Liam’s eyes flicker. 

"The gum," Harry clarifies. 

"You can have anything you want," Liam murmurs, digging a piece out of his denims pocket. 

"With that mouth," Louis puts in, and Harry chomps hard on the gum to cover the twist of nervous excitement in his stomach. 

"Thanks," he says to Liam, and then, feeling brave, he reaches up and gives Liam a brief kiss on the mouth. 

_Fuck_. He just kissed Liam bloody Payne. Liam lets out a warm, pleased sound as he pulls back. 

"You’re a sweet one," he says appreciatively, and Louis adds, with a smirk, "And we’d like to taste you, wouldn’t we, lads?" 

Liam kicks at him, but Harry just scoots forward on the seat, feeling everyone’s eyes on him - minus Niall and Alice, who are practically fucking by now, pressed so close together he can’t see where one ends and one begins.  

Harry  _loves_  that feeling. Everyone watching. 

"Wouldn’t mind," he says, coy, and Liam squeezes his shoulder, hard, says, " _Babe_ , you’re a menace, aren’t you?” 

"Go on then," Zayn murmurs, fixing him with his dark, soft gaze. "Kiss him properly." 

Harry shivers at the instructions, steels himself-  _this is what you came here for, Styles, to get off with One Direction_  - and climbs onto Liam’s lap. 

He kisses Liam slowly, luxuriously, and Liam gives back just as good as he gets- runs a big, wide hand down Harry’s back and licks into his mouth, tongue broad and wet. 

"Mm," Harry hums into the kiss at one point, and he jerks back when he hears the screech of the van door opening. For a moment he pictures his mother’s face outside, and his stomach clenches with illogical terror. God, wouldn’t  _that_  be a bloody scene.

But it’s just Niall and Alice, climbing outside with their hands intertwined. 

"Gonna, uh, get some fresh air," Niall says, throwing back a grin at them, and Alice licks her lips slowly, standing outside the van peering in. She sees Harry watching her, winks encouragingly.

"Don’t get picked up by the coppers," Liam says darkly, like it’s happened before, and Niall waves him off, says, "Calm your tits, Payner. Just gonna look at the fucking stars, mate." 

He slides the door shut, and Harry turns back to Liam, who’s still staring out after them. 

"Always gets caught bare-arse naked in the middle of the road with his cock out," he says, fondly, and Harry laughs and leans in for another kiss. 

Liam opens his mouth straightaway, and his hand cups Harry’s arse in his jeans, squeezes for a second, and then lets go. 

"Hey," he says, pulling back, kissing Harry’s cheek and smiling at him. "Let’s get your kit off, eh, mate?" 

Harry nods, only a little frantic - this is it, then, this is happening - and leans back to undo his shirt. From behind him, Zayn says, “Uh-uh, babes, let me do that, alright?” 

He drags Harry gently back onto his lap, facing Liam, and slowly starts to undo the buttons. Liam watches from across the van, eyes dark, one hand pressing slowly at the bulge in his jeans. 

"Lou, mind getting his jeans?" Zayn asks, casually, when he’s halfway down Harry’s chest. He slips in a hand to rub at Harry’s belly, and Harry arches into the touch, nearly purring. The pot sets his whole body aflame when Zayn does that, and it feels brilliant. 

"Shit, you’re lovely," Zayn laughs into his ear, as Louis slips onto his knees on the floor and undoes Harry’s fly. 

He dips his head in- just like that- and kisses at the bottom of Harry’s belly, where he’s still clinging onto a bit of baby fat. His mouth is hot, as he opens it against the soft skin, and no one’s ever- Harry’s knee jerks, nearly slamming Louis in the face, and Louis pulls back with a laugh. 

"He’s bloody aching for it," he says. "C’mon then, boys." 

When he pulls down Harry’s jeans he lets out a low whistle. 

"No pants, you slag," he murmurs, impressed, and Harry lets out a soft whimper at the feeling of air on his cock. He’s so hard it  _hurts_. “You do this often?” 

"N-no," he stammers, embarrassed- he just likes the feel, honestly, of his bare skin against denim, and Liam says, quietly, "Get him off, Lou. He needs it. Get him loosened up a bit." 

Harry starts to say something like  _you don’t have to_  but then Louis Tomlinson’s mouth - fucking  _Louis Tomlinson_  - is sliding down around the head of Harry’s cock, and all he can do is clutch desperately at Zayn’s arms as he tries not to thrust his hips forward. 

"Sh-sh, babe," Zayn coos into his ear, kissing his neck. "Just breathe, like. Breathe. Feels good, yeah?" 

Harry nestles his head back into Zayn’s neck, chokes out something unintelligible, his whole brain burning hot. He’s going to come soon, and dimly he knows he shouldn’t - that this night is less about him and more about  _them_ , getting them off - but he can’t fucking help it. 

"Please," he gasps, writhing, needing something more. Louis hums around the base of his prick, his eyes closed, and he looks slutty and hungry and so hot that Harry has to tear his gaze away. 

"That’s good, Louis," Zayn murmurs, reaching around Harry to tug his fingers through Louis' hair. "Yeah, that sweet fucking mouth you’ve got, babes. He’s a bloody amazing cocksucker, in’t he, little one?" 

And that’s it- Harry’s done, at the pet name, the hum of Zayn’s voice at his ear and the hot, slick mouth around his cock. He comes hard, sobbing out a breath, and Zayn holds him steady through it, placing both his hands on the heave of Harry’s stomach as Louis sucks him dry. 

When he looks up, Liam is staring glaze-eyed at where Louis is kissing at Harry’s soft cock, stoned and fascinated with it, all open soft mouth and hungry eyes. 

"Alright, Tommo, fuck, enough," he says, when Harry whimpers with oversensitivity, his whole body thrumming with it like it knows they’re only just getting started. 

Louis pulls off, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, licking his lips obscenely. 

"He’s sweet," he says, rubbing his palms down Harry’s narrow thighs. "Mm." 

Harry’s shirt is hanging unbuttoned and his jeans are around his thighs and he just got his cock sucked by Louis Tomlinson. He flops back into Zayn’s arms, feeling quite pleased with himself. 

"Aw, babes, don’t get sleepy on us," Zayn laughs. 

"M’not," Harry says, leaning back, and he opens his mouth into a long, dirty snog. Zayn kisses like he’s got all the time in the world - slow, easy, so wet that the sounds are almost embarrassing.

"Li, babe, get the slick," Zayn mumbles, pulling away for a minute, his hands wrapped tight around Harry’s thighs. "Got a feeling this one’s tight." 

The words send a shudder through Harry, and he wriggles back into Zayn and feels- with a shock of arousal- Zayn’s cock, hot and hard under Harry’s arse. Zayn Malik is hard. For  _him_. 

"Who wants the first go?" Louis says with a snort, and Zayn laughs, low, kisses Harry’s mouth gently. 

"Don’t be a prick, Tommo." 

"It’s alright," Harry says, licking his lips, feeling fantastically dirty at the words, the hoarse sound of his own voice, asking to get fucked. "You can - whatever. I’ll do, I’ll do whatever." 

His voice shakes. 

"Yeah, babe, I know you will," Zayn says kindly. "But we’d like to take our time on you, you know? Such a pretty thing." 

"Here," Liam says gruffly, holding up a bottle. 

"Cheers, mate. Here, kid, let’s get that shirt off." 

Zayn helps him tug it off and Louis gets his jeans all the way down, throws them to the side. Soon enough Harry is naked, completely, feeling shivery and frightened and excited. It’s indescribably dirty, being bare-skinned like that while the rest of them are still fully clothed. For a second he feels the slightest bit nauseous- a rush of nerves in his throat, and then Zayn kisses his hair and says, “Mm, lovely,” and Harry just feels  _good_. 

"Here, Liam, take him for a bit?" Zayn says, and Harry goes easily, his mind slow like syrup. He notices vaguely that Liam isn’t sitting Harry on his lap, upright. Instead Liam is quietly, carefully putting Harry over his thigh, and somehow, in a second, Harry is facing the floor with his half-hard cock pressed between Liam’s thighs, his arse up. 

His  _arse_  up, on display. Oh god. His face flames hot, and Liam starts stroking over it with one hand. His palms are so huge he can nearly cover it all at once. 

"Get him wet," Louis says, sounding hungry, and Liam murmurs, "Yeah, yeah. Give me a second-" and Harry lets out a choked sound when he feels a bare, slick finger slide between his arse cheeks. 

"Fuck," he gasps out, and a hand tangles deep in his hair, tugs gently. 

"Breathe, there’s a good lad," a voice says- Zayn, Harry can tell, but he can’t see anything except the dark of the van carpet. "Liam wants to open you up, yeah? That alright?" 

"Please," Harry says, his voice trembling. "Yes, please." 

The three of them laugh. 

"Then relax for him," Zayn says softly. "You’ll break his finger off. Breathe." 

"Sorry," Harry moans, as Liam rubs gently at his hole with his thumb, wet. "Oh, f-fuck." 

Liam fingers him carefully - spreading Harry’s legs and getting his fingers dripping wet before slipping them into Harry’s arse. Harry’s done this to himself before, with a dab of vanilla-scented lotion he stole from Gemma’s Christmas stocking the year before, but he’s never - no one’s ever - 

"Oh," he gasps, when Liam nudges up against something inside him that sends a warm spark of pleasure into the bottom of his belly. His cock is hard by now, from the odd feeling of it and the knowledge that he’s going to get shagged soon, properly fucked, like he’s wanted for ages. 

"There it is," Liam mumbles to himself, two fingers stretching, scissoring inside Harry. 

"How’s he feel?" Louis asks, his voice raspy. 

"He takes it well," Zayn says. "Fuckin’ swallowing your fingers, Payno." 

"He’s tight," Liam says breathlessly. "Really, really bloody tight." 

"We’ll loosen him up." Louis laughs. Harry’s head is spinning. This is, bar none, the hottest thing he’s ever done. And no one’s even fucked him yet. 

_I’ll be a proper groupie once I’ve been fucked_ , he thinks, something thrilling in his stomach at his own audacity.

"D’you think he’d sit on me?" Louis asks, interested, and Harry says, hotly, "Fuck, yes." 

Louis laughs delightedly. 

"I think he’ll do whatever he has to to fill that sweet arse up with cock," Zayn says, molasses-slow and warm, and Harry frots desperately against Liam’s thigh, his brain fizzling at the words, repeats, thicker and lower, "Fuck.  _yes_.”

Liam rubs a palm over Harry’s bare back, says, “Lou, get slicked up then, if you want him.” 

When Harry turns his head to the right he can see Louis stumbling back onto the opposite sofa, shedding clothes as he goes. It makes him grin hotly to himself. 

After a minute he says, breathless, “Alright then,” and Liam lifts Harry easily up off his knee. Harry feels slick trickle down the inside of his thigh, and flushes hot at the feeling, but Louis just tugs him back and says, “Alright, kiddo. Face me, yeah? Sit. Yeah, just like that.” 

When Harry’s face to face with Louis he realizes they haven’t kissed, and ducks down to steal one. Louis kisses back, hands on Harry’s hips, and then grins at him. 

"You’re sweet," he says, as Harry feels the nudge of Louis’ bare, hard cock against his arse. "Mm. Breathe out. You can take it. Not  _that_  big, me. Not like Liam, he’ll tear you in two-“ 

"Shut up," Liam snorts, and Harry sinks down - centimeter by centimeter - onto the wide heft of Louis’ prick. It hurts, quite a bit- makes his skin pebble over with goosepimples and his erection wilt slightly - but it’s a fascinating kind of pain. A new kind. 

He lets out a shaky breath and Louis echoes it, says thickly, “You’re so bloody tight. Good-  _god_.” 

His hips jerk up and Harry whimpers. In a second Zayn is behind them, putting his thumbs in the dimples at the base of Harry’s spine, pressing gently, and - easily, naturally- Harry opens further. 

"There it is," Zayn breathes. "Yeah, just relax. Oh. It’ll feel good in a bit." 

Harry nods, his eyes teary, and Louis kisses him again, soft. 

After a bit he pulls back - seated fully in Harry now, but not moving- and gives him a cheeky grin. Harry smiles back, feeling oddly as if he’s known Louis for ages. As if they’re in this together. 

"Gonna shag you now, yeah?" Louis says, ruffling Harry’s hair, sounding remarkably composed for being buried deep in Harry’s arse. 

"Thought that’s what we were doing?" Harry quips, weakly, and Louis laughs fondly and pulls out, a little, lifting Harry’s hips- then thrusts back in. 

_Oh_. So that’s - fucking, then, Harry thinks dazedly, as he starts to rock his hips at Louis’ urging. Fucking hell. It feels good in a bone-deep way, right in the pit of his belly, and then Louis’ cock hits that same spot Liam’s fingers teased at, and it feels good in  _every way_. 

"Oh, fuck," Harry gasps out, wanting more of that, grinding down into Louis’ lap. Louis mumbles something into Harry’s collarbone and comes, in hot, thick twitches inside him.  

He slumps back, panting, and Harry stays there, feeling caught at the edge, his cock pressed hard against his stomach. He feels suddenly close to tears, like he’ll never get to come again.  

Zayn sees, though - Zayn sees everything, it seems like, and he says, “Lou, let him off, yeah? He needs to get off, poor thing. Want to come on my cock?” 

"Please," Harry stammers, closing his eyes, curling a palm around his aching prick. "Zayn, please." 

"Lift your hips, babes. Oh, fuck, you’re dripping come. Fuck, Louis, you’re useless, move, you twat-" he’s laughing, low and sweet, and then just like that he puts Harry on his now-naked lap and says, "Sit down, babe." 

It’s horribly hot, going from one cock to another like an open, slick hole, and Harry lets the idea of it spread hot and prickly over him as he sinks down onto Zayn, the rim of his arse popping open around the thick head of Zayn’s prick. Zayn lets out a warm whoosh of breath into Harry’s ear. 

"Mmph, you’re fucking tight, even now. That alright?" 

"Good," Harry breathes. Louis’ recovered a little, watching them with half-closed eyes. 

"That’s lovely," Zayn says appreciatively, taking a tentative thrust upwards. Harry’s eyes roll back in his skull. "Fucking hell, your arse." 

"Maybe that’s why Lou couldn’t last more than two minutes," Liam laughs from behind Harry, and Louis raises his middle finger, too spent to do anything else. 

"Feels so good," Harry mumbles, putting a hand around his cock. "Please, please-" 

"There you are, s’alright," Zayn says breathlessly, finding a rhythm that knocks against Harry’s prostate with each short, sharp thrust. Harry comes quicker than he thought he would- the orgasm ripped out of him, come spilling over his belly and his hand working frantically over his cock. It’s better than the first, even, somehow- this one aches, leaves him feeling raw and incredibly open, especially when Zayn just keeps fucking into him. 

"Christ, Louis, you left him a fucking mess-" Zayn chokes, just before he comes, and Harry shudders, tightens down around Zayn at the thought. 

Zayn pulls out after a long minute, and Harry draws in a shaking breath, feeling the come drip slow out of his arse. 

"G-god," he stammers. "M’ all wet." 

"Slag! Slag slag slag," Louis says, laughing lazily, and Zayn looks up, over Harry’s shoulder. 

"Babe?" he says quietly to Liam. "You want his arse or his mouth?" 

Harry groans at that, then shivers hard when Zayn slips two fingers into the wet channel of his arse. He can’t help it, he bears down on them, but the truth is he wants to use his mouth - he’s thought about that too. Liam has the biggest, gentlest hands, and Harry wants them tangled in his hair. 

Zayn keeps fingering him, slow, and it’s humiliating almost- the feel of come slipping out between Zayn’s fingers, the way his hand moves so easy. Harry’s dripping wet and his mouth is watering and before Liam can answer he says to Zayn, “I’m going to suck him,” and crawls off Zayn’s lap, Zayn’s fingers leaving him with a wet  _pop_. 

He gets on his knees in front of Liam, who is inexplicably still wearing his pants - navy blue briefs. His shirt’s off, though, and Harry takes a second to appreciate the rippled length of muscle that is Liam’s torso. Harry likes all sorts of boys- skinny boys and curvy boys and tall and short and in between, but there’s something fantastic about the sheer strength of Liam that’s always set Harry’s brain on fire when he wanks thinking about this. 

Liam touches Harry’s face, says, “Do whatever you - feel comfortable with, yeah?” 

Louis snorts. “He’s had two cocks stuffed up his arse in the past half hour, I think he’s alright.” 

Harry grins. He likes them both- the tenderness, and the teasing. It makes him feel good, and he licks his bottom lip slowly, looks up at Liam through his fringe. 

"I want it," he says, dimpling. "Can I suck your cock?" 

"Fucking obscene," Zayn says somewhere behind him, his voice warm. 

"Yeah," Liam says, completely dazed, cupping Harry’s chin and thumbing at his lower lip. "Yeah, no, whatever you want, babe." 

When Liam gets his pants off- finally - Harry leans in and inhales, lets a smile spread slow across his face. He’s about to suck a cock, for the first time - and it’s Liam bloody Payne’s. Not bad for a seventeen-year-old from Holmes Chapel. 

"Done this before?" Liam asks softly, and for a moment Harry pouts, irritated by the question. It ruins the illusion, doesn’t it - that he’s a good, experienced little slut, that he gets around, that he lets any old rockstar take him into the back of his tour van and spread him wide open. 

He shakes his head shortly, and Liam says, “Cover your teeth, yeah?” 

Liam demonstrates with his lips, and Louis laughs, slow. 

"Seems like a natural to me." 

"Shut it," Liam says, shaking his head, not taking his eyes off Harry’s full bottom lip. "Anyway. Go on then, babe. Taste it." 

Harry leans in, lets his mouth rest soft and full against the head. Liam lets out a soft sigh. 

"S’good," he says. "Push the foreskin back. Yeah-  _yeah_ , shit. That’s so good.” 

"Told you," Louis says smugly, and Harry closes his eyes as a blush spreads hot down the back of his neck, leans forward and takes in more of Liam’s cock. He thinks of the skin mags he’s seen, the stuff Andy’s shown him- behind the football field bleachers after practice, all sweaty still in their kit with Andy flipping pages and swallowing loud next to Harry, shifting restlessly, breathing out - "anyone ever sucked your prick like that?" 

Harry curls his palm around the base of Liam’s cock and sucks harder, hungry, feeling a warm burn of pride in his stomach at the way Liam groans. He moves his mouth up and down, feeling his tongue slip wet around the shaft. 

"That’s really good," Liam breathes, and then- just like Harry wanted- his hand slips into the mess of Harry’s curls. The touch feels so good Harry moans around Liam’s cock and then goes hot. 

"Likes a bit of a tug, I think," Zayn says quietly, his voice hoarse and shagged-out, and Liam tries it out. Harry moans again, helpless, so Liam keeps doing it. He pulls gently and then not so gently and it sets Harry’s fucking skin on fire. He thinks he could get hard again, if Liam just kept - just kept  _pulling_ , and kept his cock warm and hard and heavy on Harry’s tongue - but before he can focus on the feeling, let it fill his prick again, Liam chokes out a warning and spills hot and bitter down Harry’s throat. 

Harry pulls back, coughing. 

"S’alright," Zayn murmurs. "Swallow it, babe, yeah? Just swallow." 

Harry gasps for air, swallows the thick mess down, wiping his palm over his mouth. He’s curled on his knees on the floor, still naked, still wet with come, inside his arse and down his chin. Fucking hell. 

"Oh," Liam says quietly, pulling Harry’s face up to him, and Harry blinks away stupid, reasonless tears - his whole body worn out, arse starting to throb in a deep ache. "Oh, babes. Here, c’mere. That was a lot, huh?" 

Harry nods, crawling onto Liam’s lap, just where he started. He’s happy, he knows - he’s fucking bone-deep satisfied in a way he won’t soon forget, but he still chokes out a couple small sobs. 

"It’s alright," Liam says, in his deep rumble of a voice, stroking the line of Harry’s spine with one hand. "You were so bloody good for us. Wasn’t he, lads?" 

"Fucking sick," Louis says, and Zayn adds, "You’re lovely, babe." 

The words feel good. Harry pulls back a little, sucks in a breath and wipes his eyes, and Liam kisses his mouth. It’s sweet and tender, a bit more than Harry expected after getting fucked in the back of a van by all of them, in a row. He kind of expected to get thrown out by the scruff of his neck, but instead Liam kisses him and murmurs to him and only then says, “Should be getting home, huh, babe?” 

Harry lets out a shaking sigh. 

"Guess so," he says, voice thick.  

"As much as we’d like to take you with us," Zayn adds, quiet, amused. "I think someone might miss you." 

Harry nods, feeling shaky-legged and exhausted. They dress him like a rag doll - Zayn pulling his jeans up over Harry’s slack tired thighs, smiling at him, and Louis fussily doing up the buttons on his shirt. After a bit Harry’s all sorted. He runs a palm through his hair, says, “Um. Thanks?” 

They laugh. Louis goes crinkle-eyed, tugs at his hand. 

"Thanks for the good time, kid," he says, and Zayn kisses him one last time, the van door half open, cool air spilling in and making Harry shudder. 

"There you are, then," he says, cupping Harry’s cheek. "If we’re in town again, you come say hello, yeah?" 

Harry nods, melancholy, and Zayn kisses his forehead, lips soft. 

"Oh, you’re alright," he says. "Good night, babe." 

Harry nods, tongue-tied, and the door slides shut behind him. He’s alone, in the chill dark night, and he rubs his hand over his face and takes off towards the bus stop. 

He sits there for a good ten minutes, his jacket clutched tight around him, staring at the empty road. 

And then - helplessly, like the sun rising - his mouth curls up into a smile. Before long he’s grinning stupidly, and he has to bury his face in the neck of his jacket. 

Fucking  _hell_. 

That happened. Harry did all that. He’s still sticky with come, open and used from two cocks and another in his mouth, like a proper, real, true groupie. 

He lets out a choked laugh and turns his head, eyes watering in the cool wind, as the bus pulls up. 

His stomach feels twisty with butterflies, and he laughs again as he gets on the bus, grinning at the driver, who grunts in response. 

Harry curls up against the window, stares out at the darkened street, feeling at home in his body, aching and sore and peaceful all at once. 


End file.
